


a series of open seasons

by sensibleshroom



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Jaster's Excellent Parenting, Mandalorian Culture (Star Wars), Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parental Jaster Mereel, Past Abuse, Trust Issues, and on gods will they get it, open seasons, the baudelaires deserve a good dad, who would just shoot olaf and be done with it, why am I doing this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:49:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28031922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sensibleshroom/pseuds/sensibleshroom
Summary: Some things can never be explained by logic. The universe will never see fit to explain HOW four orphans on a boat in the middle of the ocean ended up on a battlefield just in time for a man's destiny to change. There will probably never be an explanation for how three children who had already proven time and time again that they did not need a parent ended up with one when it was already too late for them to rely on him, but one thing can be said with certainty: every so often, the universe might see a wrong. And every so often, on very, very rare occasions, the universe might see fit to apologize the only way it knows how to: it offers to its victims a second chance.Or: Jaster Mereel thought he was destined to only have his one son. He was not expecting to turn around and get four more. Children are a blessing to the Mandalorians, and Jaster is fairly certain he's the luckiest Mando there is.
Relationships: Beatrice Baudelaire & Klaus Baudelaire & Sunny Baudelaire & Violet Baudelaire, Jango Fett & Jaster Mereel
Comments: 141
Kudos: 239





	1. Chapter 1

It was ridiculously easy to fall asleep to the sway of a boat and the lap of gentle waves on the wood. After living on the island for a year, the Baudelaires had become accustomed to the sound and smell of the ocean. It was more like home than anything else.

So when it abruptly ended, it was enough to stir them.

Klaus awoke with a gasp of air and an automatic lunge for the softly slumbering Beatrice, who was miraculously still at an arm’s length. There was a whistling and a  _ boom, _ loud and rocking, and a shout rose up as the four of them scrambled to their feet, dirty and very much  _ not _ on their ship.

_ “Ad’ika! Gev!” _ Someone howled, and Klaus clutched Beatrice to his chest, scrambling back in the dirt as his wide eyes swept across the utter  _ chaos _ they had been dropped in.

_ “Get the ade!” _ That same shout thundered across the field, and there was a  _ roar _ Klaus had never heard in his  _ life, _ bright red and orange cutting through the smoke and dust, signaling a man clad in  _ armor, _ what on  _ earth, _ landing right in front of him. A  _ jetpack? _

“What the  _ hells _ are you doing, kid?” The man demanded as Klaus scrambled back in the dirt.

“Violet!” Klaus shouted before he could stop himself. “Sunny!”

“Klaus!” Violet’s voice cut around the chaos, but he couldn’t place her anywhere. Somewhere behind him, but there was so much chaos.

“Give me the little one!” The man in the red and yellow armor ordered before lifting a gun to shoot something  _ bright _ and  _ loud _ and very much  _ not _ a bullet. “Quick!”

Beatrice, at the last possible moment, came to her senses enough to realize things were  _ loud _ and  _ scary, _ and promptly started to cry as Klaus tried to scramble to his feet and bundle her against his chest.

“Who are you?” He gasped, and the man let out a quiet noise of reprove as he fired off three more shots.

“Someone who isn’t going to let some  _ kids _ get  _ shot, _ ” he snapped. “Get to that ridge and my men!  _ Now! _ ”

A hand was lifted up and the man pointed back behind Klaus before a bright bolt of light hit him in the leg. There was a grunt of pain, and the man fell to one knee.

_ “GO!” _ He howled, and Klaus scrambled back, holding the crying toddler to his chest as he bolted for the ridge. Heart thundering in his chest, completely lost and unsure as to  _ why _ he had suddenly woken up in a  _ warzone, _ Klaus bolted up to the ridge, people in matching armor popping up to lay down heavy cover fire, blanketing the field he was running from in bright blue, and Klaus slid down, gasping and shaking because  _ what was going on? _

“Are you suicidal, kid?” A man demanded as Klaus cradled a crying Beatrice to his chest, barely able to hear her wails over the sound of the strange guns and explosions.

“Wha--- what?” Klaus gasped, tremors rolling up his body as years of acting quick and on his feet forced him to  _ think. _ “Violet? Sunny!”

“We’re here!” Violet was suddenly in front of him, long brown hair and soft eyes and Sunny all together.

“Fall back!” The man from before thundered as he limped over the edge of the ridge. “Montross, airlift one of the little ones out! I’ll get the other!”

The man who had just accused Klaus of being suicidal hesitated, his helmeted head looking between the collection of ragtag orphans and whatever was going on over on the other side of the ridge, and the other man smacked him upside the head.

“Ade before glory, Montross!” The man snarled, and suddenly Klaus very  _ much _ did not want to trust Sunny nor Beatrice with him. “Intel was bad, we’re  _ leaving! _ ”

“Yes,  _ ‘Alor! _ ” Montross, apparently, called, and this ‘Alor’ turned to the three siblings and their child.

“I can tell you’re all very confused right now, but we don’t have time for that. They’re not going to be nice if they take you and think you’re Foundlings. Can we offer protection enough to get you away from here?” The man asked, and Violet and Klaus exchanged glances before looking at Sunny.

After so long, it was criminally easy to have a conversation without saying a thing.

“We’ll come,” Klaus decided, because questions could wait until  _ after _ they weren’t getting shot at. Hesitantly, he held out Beatrice to this ‘Alor, and the man wrapped gloved hands around her like she was something precious while the Montross man swept Sunny up, holding her firmly and coaching her to keep her legs back and not wrapped around his body.

“Someone airlift these two out!” ‘Alor called, smoothing a hand down Beatrice’s head and softly shushing her. “We’re pulling out! Comm Jango!”

Someone strode up to Klaus and tilted their head down at him.

“Can I pick you up?” The masked person of indeterminate gender asked, and Klaus nodded hesitantly. The helmeted person strode forward, bending over and simply sweeping Klaus up in a bridal carry.

“Don’t look so nervous,” the person chided, their voice vaguely robotic and distant. “Jaster loves little ones, and he’ll have Montross’s head if he drops your… sister?”

“Sunny,” Klaus confirmed. “My sister.”

“Sunny,” the man repeated and Klaus wrapped his arms around his neck nervously. “Alright. Lifting off.”

Jaster. That was a name. ‘Alor must be a title.

Klaus could scarcely remember the last time an adult had saved his life and  _ not _ ultimately had to give up and let Klaus save his own self.

He would have to remember that name. Jaster.


	2. Chapter 2

“You know,” Klaus said slowly as he looked around the  _ spaceship _ they had been taken on, “I don’t think the medusoid mycelium had any long term aftereffects of hallucination. I’m  _ sure _ I read all of Fiona’s information on it.”

“The odds of all five senses being taken over to make a group hallucination  _ this _ vivid and complex are… what?” Violet prompted, and Klaus blinked. Hard.

“Impossible. Hallucinations are  _ never _ this complex.”

“That’s wonderful to know,” Violet said, choosing her words carefully, because they had  _ long _ since outgrown outright panic. Maybe three years ago, but Klaus was fourteen now. He’d survived Count Olaf for a full  _ year _ of his miserable life, and had seen and participated in a great many  _ wild _ things.

“We can’t panic,” Klaus decided, like that hadn’t been decided the second they landed in the middle of a warzone with a one year old and a four year old in tow.

“Right. So we have to consider our possibilities,” Violet agreed firmly. “Hallucinations are out.”

“We were in the middle of the ocean with nowhere to go and land was nowhere  _ near _ us,” Klaus said slowly, and Violet nodded.

“And now there’s spaceships. Whatever put  _ us _ here, isn’t something that originated from  _ our _ home, so we should wait to come to conclusions until we know more of where we are,” Violet surmised, and Klaus slowly,  _ slowly _ exhaled.

At least they hadn’t lost anything they couldn’t stand to lose. God only knew they had lost  _ enough. _ He had his sisters, he had Beatrice, and everything else were things he could stand to leave behind. It could even be considered a kindness that the spyglass was in his pocket.

The man in the red armor was talking with a teenaged boy around Violet’s age. Beatrice had promptly passed out once they made it to the  _ spaceship, _ Klaus was on a  _ spaceship, _ and Sunny had been guided to a ‘refresher’, which was apparently a restroom. The man that had presumably saved them was barely managing the conversation with the boy in the armor while a medic harangued him about his leg, and the boy was giving them  _ very _ suspicious and questioning looks from across the ‘hanger’. Klaus felt a little hunted. That boy did  _ not _ like them.

“That is  _ not _ food,” a very firm, very  _ young _ voice Klaus knew so very well said from around the corner, and in an instant Violet was cautiously picking Beatrice up so the two eldest Baudelaires could walk around the corner and locate where the  _ intense _ voice was coming from.

Ah. There was Sunny, in her dirty shirt and pants, arms crossed and brows furrowed in a way that screamed of a culinary insult. Klaus was just glad her teeth had dulled over the past year or so, because she looked ready to start drawing blood over whatever had her so offended. The teenager, or perhaps young adult, who was offering her some kind of gray slab of  _ something _ didn’t look all that offended, thankfully. More amused than anything.

“You’re absolutely right,” he agreed. “It’s  _ definitely _ not. We’re not going to get real food till we get back to base.  _ This _ is rations. Just something to keep you moving,  _ ad’ika. _ ”

Klaus took in the sight of the man with dark skin and warm eyes, immediately determining that he was not a threat despite the gun on his hip, and instead swept over to Sunny.

“Sorry, she has a lot of opinions about food,” Klaus said apologetically, putting his hands on her shoulders and preparing to steer her away.

“As she should,” the man agreed and wrapped the bar back up. “Myles, at your service.”

“There were no  _ seasonings, _ ” Sunny complained, and, oh, dear, she had forgotten to keep her tongue to herself while they were on the island. Not that she had  _ before, _ but no one had  _ understood _ her before. “Not even the  _ islanders _ had such awful taste, and they didn’t even flavor their ceviche!”

“Sunny,  _ please, _ ” Klaus hissed. “He was trying to be  _ nice. _ ”

“It’s not nice to try to  _ poiso _ \---”

Violet slapped a hand over Sunny’s mouth and gave Myles an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, she’s opinionated,” she said in exasperation and pulled her flush against her skirts. “I’m Violet Baudelaire. This is Klaus, my brother, and  _ this _ one is Sunny.”

“And that’s Beatrice,” Klaus added, gesturing to the slumbering one year old. “She’s had a long day.”

“It has  _ definitely _ been a long day,” Myles agreed as he tucked the ‘ration’ away. “You’ll get used to rations, Sunny. Makes you appreciate real food more, so that’s a bonus. Are you four from Korda-6?”

“Ah. So that’s where we were,” Violet said, utterly mystified. “No, we aren’t from anywhere called ‘Korda’6’.”

“Where are your parents?” Myles asked, and Violet and Klaus exchanged glances.

“Dead,” Klaus replied honestly. “Two years now.”

“... And you haven’t had anyone taking care of you for two years?” Myles asked, brows furrowing as he took in their youthful faces.

“We’ve…” Klaus trailed off. They  _ did _ have people taking care of them, right?

“We’ve taken care of ourselves,” Violet said firmly and grimaced briefly, pulling her hand off Sunny’s mouth to show off the sheen of spit plastered across her palm. “Thank you, Sunny.”

“We were on a wooden  _ boat, _ ” Sunny complained. “You taste like  _ grease. _ ”

“Then you shouldn’t have licked me,” Violet said severely, trying for dignified and failing miserably. “Anyways, Myles, we’ll get her out of your hair.”

“She was wonderful, actually,” Myles cut in with a warm smile as heavy boots approached them from behind.

“Myles.” The new voice was a bit unexpected. Young, gruff, entirely unamused, and Klaus turned to stare at the newcomer with wide eyes. It was the teenager Jaster had been speaking to. There were a lot of teenagers hanging around. Or the Baudelaires were just attracting them like moths to a lamp.

“Jango,” Myles said smoothly and Klaus took in the newcomer’s tanned skin, not nearly dark as Myles’s, hard brown eyes in contrast to Myles’s warmth, a scar through his brow and scowl set into his face. Klaus, briefly, had an uncomfortable thought of what Carmelita Spats might have been like with a gun, before he banished it. Carmelita Spats was certainly not capable of punting Klaus through a wall.

“Buir wants to talk to these ones,” Jango said, and turned on his heel. “Come on,  _ aruetiise. _ Bad manners to keep the  _ Mand’alor _ waiting.”

Klaus had never  _ once _ heard this language in his  _ life, _ and he had heard a  _ great _ many languages. Then again, he’d also never seen a  _ spaceship, _ so he could make the reasonable argument that there were probably going to be other languages he’d never heard. And what was Kordo-6? Was that a location or another  _ planet? _

It was probably another planet. Given that they were on a spaceship.

What was an  _ ‘aruetiise’ _ ? It sounded mildly derogatory.

Even so, they had to keep up with this ‘Jango’, who looked upset to be in their general vicinity. Klaus was determined to make that not last for long. If they couldn’t get back home, that was fine, but they had managed for quite some time without resorting to guns and…

And Dewey was dead.

A year wasn’t very long to get used to it, and Klaus wasn’t sure he could handle being around so many  _ weapons. _ It wasn’t that he thought it was  _ wrong _ to be violent, or that people didn’t have a  _ right _ to fight back. It was just that they had survived for so long with only having to fight back with their wits and how quick they could move, even in the face of a man who had slaughtered one person after another to get to them. He knew violent people could be kind, and gentle, and compassionate, he just…

Hadn’t quite experienced that. That was all. These people had dropped an entire battle, whatever it was about, just to protect children they didn’t even know, so he thought he could trust them, but…

The sooner they were away from guns and  _ flamethrowers _ and battleships, the better.

“Klaus,” Violet murmured as Sunny slipped her hand into his, and he gave his little sister a wane smile as he squeezed her hand gently.

“We’re fine,” he assured Violet. “Just a little unsteady.”

“Can you pick me up?” Sunny asked, and then yawned, and Klaus obliged, dropping to a crouch so she could climb onto his back and bury her face into his neck. He had  _ no _ idea how long any of them had slept, but he was exhausted.

Jango glanced back, a frown hovering around his lips at the sight of the ragtag group of children, half conscious and clearly not with the situation at all. Klaus just wanted to curl up somewhere soft and go to  _ sleep. _ Preferably with all of his sisters in his immediate vicinity, because the  _ last _ time things went  _ this _ badly, two people died and they got drugged and then almost an entire community of people got taken out by a  _ mushroom _ and---

He needed to calm down. Sunny was already stiffening up behind him. She always picked up on someone’s turmoil far too easily, and Klaus gently tapped the underside of her thigh to reassure her that he was just fine, just tired, so his brain was getting a little fuddled.

They had been  _ shot at. _ And  _ survived. _

Klaus needed a good book and a nap.

… Oh, no, he was going to have to learn a new alphabet. There was  _ no way _ wherever they were using the standard latin alphabet. There would have to  _ be _ latin for the alphabet, which meant they were using something  _ else, _ and---

“Klaus,” Violet murmured next to him as Jango led them into another hallway.

“We’re not going to know the alphabet,” Klaus muttered. “What happens when we don’t know the alphabet?”

“We learn whatever alphabet they have,” Violet said firmly, and Klaus’s mind drifted at the implications that they somehow still managed to share at least one language. Not that anyone  _ really _ understood where English came from. It was a hodgepodge of languages, sure, but there were  _ definitely _ influences that no one could trace nor comprehend. He’d found the entire evolution fascinating. He’d once spent an entire summer investigating the mysterious origins, and now they had a matching language with people that had  _ jetpacks _ and  _ spaceships _ and were as confused by their presence as they were.

“How are we even  _ sharing _ a  _ language, _ ” Klaus hissed and then paused. “Uh… Jango, right?”

Jango grunted once, which was as good a reply as ever, and Klaus pursed his lips.

“Connaissez-vous cette langue?” He asked, the French spilling off his lips with relative ease. He didn’t speak a  _ lot _ of other languages, but Mother had always insisted on French, because all of her lullabies were in French and she liked them dreaming of the love you could find in stars.

“Don’t know that one,” Jango said shortly, and Klaus frowned.

“You… travel a lot, right?” He asked hesitantly.

“Yeah,” Jango replied as he pressed a button and a door slid open.

“... On average, how many languages can you find on one planet?”

“... Beyond Basic?” That must be what they were speaking. “Uh… Native languages, or trade languages, because there’s always someone that speaks Huttese and Bocce.”

“Native,” Klaus clarified, pleasantly surprised that Jango thought to ask.

“Maybe one or two?”

Violet coughed, and Klaus blinked.

“... Only one or two?”

“If that. A lot of planets have people that only speak Basic,” Jango said with a shrug as they stepped onto some kind of open room with a wall of windows, shuttered up, giving no indication of what was outside. “Wait here. I’ll get my buir.”

Violet and Klaus stared at each other in speechless confusion as Jango stepped out. Sunny buried her face into Klaus’s neck with an irritable groan, her heels pressing into the tops of his thighs.

“You’re too tired to start thinking, Klaus,” Sunny complained and wiggled against him.

“Do you want down?” Klaus asked, and Sunny thunked her head against his neck.

“No.”

“We need somewhere to put Beatrice down for her nap,” Violet said with a frown, and Klaus blinked at Violet blearily from behind his glasses.

“ _ We _ need somewhere to lay down for our nap,” Klaus groused, and the door slid open again, resulting in the two eldest Baudelaires jumping in shock at the sight of the man with the red and yellow armor stepping back into the room.

“Sorry,” he said as Jango trailed in after him. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

The man took off his helmet, revealing a wan face, bags under kind eyes and stubble along his jaw. He looked tired, stressed, and Klaus took an instinctive step back at the thought of a stressed man of that age. The man’s eyes flicked to Klaus and he frowned, just a touch, but Klaus was already scanning his body language for evidence of violence and---

He needed to stop. The man’s body language was  _ tired, _ but open, non-threatening. He was fine. They had called him Jaster, right? But he was also called Buir and Mand’alor and ‘Alor, and oh, he was  _ not _ going to be keeping up with all of this. How many titles and names did one man possibly need?

“I’m sorry I took so long to meet with you four,” he said after an awkward pause. “I was dealing with the local authorities.”

“It’s fine,” Violet said immediately. “It was kind of you to help us. You don’t owe us anything else.”

“All the same, I should have seen to you four immediately,” the man insisted. “My name is Jaster Mereel. Can I know your names?”

Violet shifted Beatrice in her arms and the toddler stirred for just a moment before settling. Klaus looked between his sister and the little one they’d been raising before opting to take command in this situation.

“My name is Klaus,” he said. “These are my sisters, Violet and Sunny, and the little one is Beatrice.”

“Not your sister?” Jaster asked, catching on that wording immediately, and Klaus hesitated. They’d never put a  _ name _ to what Beatrice was to them, but…

“Beatrice’s mother died in childbirth, and her father… died before she was born,” Violet said. “We’ve been taking care of her ever since. We don’t have a name for what she is to us. She’s just our little one.”

Jaster frowned at that and looked between the two of them.

“You aren’t from Kordo-6, correct? Are you old enough to be parents and on your own in your culture?” He asked, and they hesitated, but Sunny beat them to it, as sleepy as she was.

“No,” she said and rubbed at one sleepy eye. “But we’re okay, thank you.”

Jaster’s face twitched  _ ever _ so slightly, and Jango frowned.

“How did you end up in the middle of a firefight?” He asked, and once again they hesitated. They would sound like they were on drugs.

“We’re not sure,” Violet said carefully. “We were on our boat one moment, but then we woke up and we were just… there. We’re a little confused. We don’t even  _ have _ spaceships where we’re from, much less jetpacks or those weird guns you have. It’s a little beyond us how we’re even speaking the same language.”

“... So you’re from a primitive planet? Do you know the name?” Jaster asked, and Klaus and Violet exchanged confused glances.

“... Earth?”

“... Your planet is named  _ Dirt? _ ” Jango asked incredulously, and Klaus crinkled his nose in offense.

“It’s  _ also _ been known as Terra and Gaia,” he said, prickly and exhausted.

“Do you have anyone to take care of you on your homeworld?” Jaster cut in, giving a warning glance to Jango, who bristled but seemed to listen.

“We take care of ourselves,” Violet said firmly. Seven guardians and pseudo-guardians dead, if you counted Count Olaf, who Klaus  _ dearly _ did not want to count, the rest abandoning them or scattered to the winds. No, it was better that they remain self reliant, even if they were now apparently in space. Adults had tried and failed to do right by them time and time again, and even  _ if _ Olaf was dead and their fortune probably meant very little in  _ space… _

They were still just… gunshy, probably. If they were simply left on some deserted planet, they could probably manage just fine.

Jaster apparently was not fine with that assertion, however, because he treated Violet to a severe frown.

“So you don’t have anyone,” he clarified, and Klaus stared down at his scuffed boots, wondering vaguely  _ what _ a  _ Mand’alor  _ actually  _ was. _

“In our experience, a guardian is more dangerous than us being on our own,” Violet explained, as tactfully as she could, and Klaus huffed out a tiny, frustrated sigh.

“Sorry, Sunny is half asleep, can we have this discussion later?” He asked, shifting Sunny in his grip. He could tell from the lack of sharp, smart retorts that she was  _ barely _ clinging to consciousness.

“Of course,” Jaster said immediately. “Jango, wrestle up somewhere for them to sleep, okay?”

“Yes, buir,” Jango said and turned on his heel, sharply jerking his head. “All the rooms are taken, but you can crash in mine. C’mon.”

The young warrior took off into the hallway once again, sharp, quick steps peeling him away from the four of them, and Klaus hurried to catch up with him, Sunny plastered to his back and burning hot in the cold of the vessel they’d found themselves on.

He  _ really _ hoped this wouldn’t end in disaster, but he also wasn’t holding out much hope.

“What does  _ Mand’alor _ and  _ buir _ mean?” Violet asked, and Jango paused, glancing back at her with an unreadable expression on his face.

“ _Mand’alor_ means he’s the leader of the _Mando’ade._ _Buir_ means he’s my father.”

“... The  _ Mando’ade? _ ” Klaus echoed, and Jango blinked.

“You really  _ are _ from a primitive planet, aren’t you? You don’t recognize the armor? He’s the leader of the Mandalorians. We’re a creed-based race and culture.”

It took Klaus a few moments to process that. It took him even longer to realize the implications.

They had been dropped in the middle of a firefight and then  _ immediately _ got scooped up by a  _ king _ whose  _ son _ was giving them his sleeping quarters.

Had he not had a little sister on his back, Klaus would have collapsed on the spot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back on my bullshit!!! I don't know why I made this!!!
> 
> tumblr: [ psychicshr00m](https://psychicshr00m.tumblr.com/)


	3. Chapter 3

Jaster had a lot of thoughts, and most of them were highly uncomplimentary. The boy had flinched back like he was expecting Jaster to  _ hit him. _ And from the way Jango told it, that wasn’t because of their reputation. The kids had never even  _ heard _ of Mandalorians before today. Someone had  _ hit that boy. _ And the oldest girl… The second he flinched, she’d shifted her body to just  _ slightly _ put herself in front of him.

He couldn’t leave them on their own. Sure, there were a  _ lot _ of young, unaccompanied kids out in the galaxy, but that didn’t mean Jaster could just  _ leave them. _ It didn’t make it  _ right. _ Jango had managed to get their ages out of them, and Violet was sixteen. They’d been on their own for two years, which meant that poor girl had basically filled in the role of a parent since she was fourteen. Or, maybe not. There was some degree of synergy between the three older ones that spoke to an even distribution of responsibility, and he didn’t even want to  _ think _ about that with Sunny.

Sixteen, fourteen, five, and one. Jaster  _ wanted _ to respect their choice, but a sixteen year old had no business providing for three younger siblings. He couldn’t just let them  _ wander off. _ They probably couldn’t even read or write in the right languages. This was their  _ first time _ on a ship. If they were from a primitive culture, they likely didn’t know a damn thing about making a living for themselves in the galaxy, and he could not find any mention of the planet they were allegedly from.

No, it was better to keep them with him until he could figure out what to do about the problem. Sixteen may be considered a legal adult on  _ some _ planets, but they definitely weren’t from Naboo. Someone needed to take care of them and at  _ least _ make sure they could provide for themselves. He may not teach them how to be  _ bounty hunters, _ they seemed a bit too soft for that, but he could teach them how to defend themselves and some form of trade.

“Buir, you can’t forcibly adopt any unaccompanied minor you come across,” Jango said quietly at his side, and Jaster twitched  _ ever _ so slightly.

“They’re from a primitive planet we can’t  _ find, _ Jango. Someone has to teach them how to take care of themselves,” Jaster said seriously, and Jango snorted.

“I think they can figure it out on their own.”

“I’m not letting a sixteen year old wander the galaxy with a toddler and a five year old to take care of,” Jaster said firmly. “Especially one that wasn’t even aware that spaceships were a thing.”

_ “Buir…” _

“What, do you not want to share?” Jaster asked in amusement, and Jango’s eye twitched.

“I didn’t come to Kordo-6 to pick up  _ three sisters. _ Do you even know anything about taking care of girls?”

“I’m sure I can figure it out,” Jaster said, now offended, and Jango snorted.

“You don’t even know how to braid hair, buir. Your first reaction to a boy speaking to a daughter would be to throw him out a window.”

“I would  _ not, _ ” Jaster protested.

“You’d  _ think _ it,” Jango shot back.

“I think about shooting Montross in the face at  _ least _ four times a day; that doesn’t mean I  _ do _ it.”

“You should at least shoot him in the foot every once in a while,” Jango muttered darkly, and Jaster gave him a sharp glance.

“He’s my second, whether you like it or not, Jango.”

“He’s a slimy  _ di’kut, _ is what he is,” Jango said firmly, and Jaster frowned, starting to open his mouth, but Jango cut him off, “Do you  _ really _ think you can handle three teenagers, a  _ five year old, _ and a toddler all at once?  _ While _ being Mand’alor? Just pass them off to someone else.”

“No one  _ else _ is going to be able to afford two teenagers, a five year old, and a toddler. I don’t think you realize how much food you burned through once you hit puberty.” And Jaster was distinctly uncomfortable with the idea of handing those haunted kids who looked like they’d been through a warzone to anyone else, but he wasn’t going to admit that.

“No, I know,” Jango cut in, looking dead inside. “Veli told me every chance she got.”

That sounded like Veli.

“I’m not making any decisions until I can sit them down and speak to them,” Jaster said firmly, and Jango nodded.

“They should be waking up soon, I think. I’ll go see if I can find food that isn’t rations for them. Sunny accused Myles of poisoning her.”

“She did  _ what? _ ”

“I would, too,” Jango muttered. “She was not impressed with the ration bars.”

“If they’re from a primitive planet, they’re going to need vaccines. Make sure they go to the medics for full screenings,” Jaster ordered. “And show them how to use the sonics. We’ll be back to Concord Dawn in a day, and I don’t want them feeling like they stick out like a sore thumb when we get there. And comm me when food is ready. I’d like to sit with them over a meal.”

“Alright. I’ll go get them up,” Jango said and pushed off the counter to make his way out and away from his father. Jaster watched him go, hoping to high heavens they wouldn’t butt heads. The kids seemed very polite and sweet, but Jango could be a bit of a rancor when he felt threatened.  _ Hopefully _ he wouldn’t feel threatened by their presence.

Hopefully.

.

.

.

.

.

Violet was feeling a lot of things right now, and it was taking a while to catalogue everything and set it aside. Jango had shown them how to use the ‘sonic shower’, which she  _ desperately _ wanted to dismantle, and Sunny had  _ hated _ it. The building suspicion that her little sister was quite possibly autistic was growing every day, seeing as she hadn’t started speaking until she was  _ four, _ compounded with all of her texture and sensory issues and tantrums which she sometimes couldn’t even  _ explain, _ despite the fact that she had been explaining things since she could  _ babble. _ Her reaction to the sonic shower had been borderline violent, with her struggling to not cry and force herself through it until Jango just showed her how to take a water shower while explaining that they didn’t  _ normally _ use water showers because of the scarcity in the galaxy and it was just more efficient.

Sunny had been fine after it, but told Violet it hurt her ears and body. Jango, for all his brusque attitude, had taken it in stride, and that was that. Fresh jumpsuits had been provided to the siblings, seeing as their clothes were filthy, and Violet had been privately delighted at how  _ deep _ the pockets went on them. They weren’t entirely  _ soft, _ but they were warm and heavy in a way that felt like a hug. Shoes had been scrounged up, and she had to wonder just how many things they  _ had _ on these huge ships. Now, the four siblings were sitting in a medical area to submit to ‘scans’ and vaccinations and examinations.

“Alright, Beatrice,” the medic who had seen to Violet first said, lifting up the toddler and setting her on the edge of a strange looking bed, “are you going to be upset if I prick you?”

“A-da-ba-ba,” Beatrice replied, rather primly, and Violet glanced to Sunny.

“No,” Sunny replied firmly. “She will only cry a little.”

The medic paused, looking between the four of them, and her brows furrowed.

“I’m sorry, you understand her baby talk?” She clarified, and Violet blinked.

“... Yes?” Nobody had ever asked for  _ clarification _ before.

“Is that normal on your planet?” The medic asked, and Violet and Klaus exchanged glances.

“I wouldn’t say  _ yes, _ but I wouldn’t say  _ no, _ ” Violet hedged out. “It depends on how willing you are to listen to younger people and how close you are to the baby…”

Most people did not understand Sunny when she was little, and when they  _ did, _ it was because they already  _ listened _ to the older siblings in ways others did not. But that was normal for  _ most _ children in their unique positions. Most adults grew old and forgot what it was like to communicate, but it wasn’t  _ unheard _ of. It was like an open secret.

“And you’re Human?” The medic clarified, and Violet blinked.

“As far as we’re aware, yes.”

“You  _ could _ define Human differently than us, though…” Klaus mused, but Violet was again distracted by the medical scanners running over Beatrice’s face.

“Well, there’s plenty of species that look as Human as it gets that  _ aren’t _ Human,” the medic said. “Korun, Kiffar, Stewjoni, and the like. Though  _ those _ species are all Force sensitive, but I wonder…”

“Sorry, what’s Force sensitive?” Violet asked. She’d never heard of such a thing, and the medic’s nose crinkled, as if she was displeased about something.

“It means you have a connection to this…  _ power _ in the universe that’s generally called the Force. I’ve heard it called other things, though. Ashla, some might argue it’s the manda… All sorts of traditions. Force sensitive people can  _ do _ things, with training and time. Lift rocks with their mind, see the future, magic spells, things like that.”

“Mmm, definitely not  _ us, _ ” Klaus assured her almost immediately. “I’ve never heard of anything like that on our planet.”

“Could be more subtle than you’d think. I don’t have the tools to test for it  _ here, _ ” the medic replied as she gently massaged Beatrice’s bicep. "Alright,  _ ad'ika, _ get ready for a pinch."

Beatrice's face screwed up as the woman eased a needle into her arm, and then her lower lip trembled. There were four clicks, and a hiss, and the woman eased out the needle before smoothing a bandage over the tiny bead of blood that rose up. A quiet cry escaped their little one's lips, and in an instant, Violet was there to sweep her up and press her forehead to hers.

"It's alright," she soothed as the woman raised her brows. "Are there anymore shots for her?"

"No, that's the standard vaccination blend for isolated Humans," the woman replied. "Sunny, right? Can I get you next?"

"Yes," Sunny said firmly and clambered onto the table without a shred of fear. Confident fingers undid the fastenings on her jumpsuit and she shrugged down an arm for the woman to disinfect.

"Jango's still looking for mention of your planet, but I don't think he's found anything," the woman said as she got the 'hypo' ready while scanning Sunny with her free hand. "I'll be running your DNA to see if I can't find any differences in your genome from regular Humans, if that's alright with you. It's an important thing for a medic to know."

Violet and Klaus met each other's gazes and she scanned his face for signs of discomfort. He was fine with it.

"That's fine by us," Violet said as the medic set the scanner aside.

"Big breath, Sunny," she said, and then again came the clicks and hiss. Sunny's face screwed up in distaste and Beatrice whimpered quietly against Violet's throat.

"Done," the woman proclaimed and eased out the needle. "I  _ can _ tell you all right now your brains are definitely different than the average Human's, though I don't think that will affect much of anything. Your left frontal and temporal lobes are much larger and have a  _ lot _ more activity going on, which might explain why you're able to communicate with children who can't yet form full sentences. There's a few more differences, but those are the major ones. I'll have to take a look at your DNA to really figure out differences, if Violet and Klaus are alright with me drawing a little blood."

"I'm fine with it," Violet said, because while she was an engineer at heart, she couldn't deny that it wasn't fascinating. Klaus would probably have a field day talking about the biology behind it all.

"You can draw mine, too," Klaus agreed, and the woman gestured for him to take his spot on the table.

"It'll make things easier for Jaster, at least. If you're good with languages, he will probably have an easier time teaching you four Mando'a," she said, and Violet blinked as she got to scanning Klaus.

"Mando'a?" Sunny repeated, her brow furrowing.

"Our language," the woman supplied as she got her readouts and started disinfecting Klaus's arm. "I'm sure you  _ ade _ have never had to learn other languages before, given it's a primitive planet---"

"What?" Klaus cut in, and then flushed as he realized he was interrupting. "I mean, why wouldn't we learn other languages?"

"... Well, there can't be much opportunity?" The woman made it sound like a question, and the Baudelaires stared at her.

"There's over seven thousand languages on Earth…" Klaus said faintly, and she blinked.

"Oh. Well that explains the lobes, then. Your planet must be chaotic."

"... Very," Klaus agreed and slid a glance to Violet. Sunny looked between her two elder siblings, and the medic murmured a warning before easing in the hypo to deliver his vaccines.

"Pardon, why would Jaster teach us Mando'a?" Violet hedged out, and the woman blinked.

"Well, it's not like he's going to shuffle you four off to be someone else's responsibility."

"We aren't anyone's responsibility," Violet protested, and the woman actually laughed.

"You're unaccompanied children, and Jaster Mereel is the Mandalorian of all Mandalorians. You are  _ definitely _ his responsibility."

"We survived for a full year by ourselves on a deserted island without even fresh water," Klaus said firmly. "We don't need a guardian. You could leave us on an uninhabited planet and we would be just fine."

"So you're proposing the  _ Mand'alor _ engages in child abandonment," the woman supplied, and Violet blinked.

"That would be one of the better instances of child abandonment we've encountered," she said, and the woman's brows furrowed.

"So someone  _ else _ abandoned you on a deserted island without fresh water?"

"No, of course not," Violet protested, like that wasn't exactly what happened. "They all left because a cult leader told them that was the best way to handle the poisoning. Or died. Two of them died."

"... What?"

That was a new voice, and everyone's heads rotated to take in the sight of the apparent  _ Mand'alor _ standing in the doorway, his son at his side, and Violet blinked.

"Hello,  _ 'Alor! _ " The medic called cheerfully as Klaus collected the rapidly-calming Beatrice so Violet could get her shot. Without a complaint, she sat up on the table and let the woman scan her as she bared her shoulder to the room, thankful for the compression undershirt that had been provided to her.

"Are you scaring the  _ ade, _ Veli?" Jaster asked as he strode forward and set down the strange helmet he wore.

"No, we were just discussing how their planet has over seven  _ thousand _ native languages," Veli, evidently, who had not introduced herself replied. Jaster's heavy brows climbed up into his hairline and he leaned on another table.

"And how many do you  _ ade _ speak?" He asked, and Violet glanced at Klaus.

"Uh… Well,  _ we _ know latin, English, which you call Basic, French, Spanish, and a smattering of Mandarin, but our Chinese isn't the best, considering they use a different alphabet," she replied. "Klaus knows more than us, though."

"I know eight," Klaus added. "We're still teaching Sunny and Beatrice all of them."

Half of those languages had been learned in the past year, thanks to the books beneath the tree, but Violet wasn't going to admit to that.

"Impressive," Jaster said, and he actually sounded it.

"Ready for the pinch?" Veli asked, and Violet nodded. There was a sharp sting of pain, clicks, hiss, and then the throb withdrew as a neat bandage was plastered onto her arm. "They're ready to go,  _ 'Alor, _ if you need them now, but I'd like to grab some blood work later."

"We're coming out of hyperspace, so you can do it at the compound," Jaster replied and tucked his helmet under his arm. "Any instructions?"

"Try to keep them quarantined for a day in case they have any reactions to the vaccines," Veli said as she started to gather up some things into a pack. "They might get contagious, but scans show they aren't carrying anything harmful to anyone else from their planet. Perks of being deserted on an island for a year, I guess. I'll swing by the suite to get their blood later, after I run all of these scans by Julip."

"Take your time," Jaster said as the ship shuddered. "That's our cue. Would you four like to watch the planetary approach from the bridge? Nice view."

Sunny and Klaus both lit up, and Beatrice even lifted her head from Klaus's neck at the sudden spike of excitement. Not even Violet could keep her lips from twitching at the sheer  _ insanity  _ of their current situation, and Jango's helmet tilted away from them, as if in amusement.

"Thank you,  _ Mand'alor, _ " she said carefully, trying out the title on her tongue, and something flashed over Jaster's face.

"Jaster will do, for now. Is that a yes?"

Veli snorted, and Jango sighed, like there was something else going on, and Violet caught sight of something disturbingly reminiscent of a herpetologist talking about Peru with a snake wrapped about his hand in the light in Jaster's eyes. Her heart ached for a moment, and she tried a brave smile.

_ 'No Olaf here. You buried him, remember?' _

There was always going to be another Olaf. She needed to remember that.

"Jaster, then. Yes. We'd love to."

"Then let's go. You're going to love Concord Dawn," he said, and turned on his heel. "Jango and I were both born there, you know?"

"I don't," she said, but she was smiling despite herself. That smile wavered as Beatrice perked up and mutely stretched out her arms for Jaster, who didn't even hesitate as he reached for her. It took him a second, and then he paused, tilting his head for permission. Klaus glanced at Violet, and Sunny scrunched her nose, but Violet relented with a nod. Their brother shifted, and Jaster took the permission, sweeping Beatrice up on his hip with practiced patience.

"Beautiful planet," he continued, like nothing had happened as he led them into the hall. "I was banned for a while, but it's a great place for kids. It's always good to share your home, don't you think?"

Well. Violet's smug little fourth of her home seemed to think sharing was important, in any case, if the look on Beatrice's face had any merit. Violet knew better than to comment when the toddler looked so  _ deeply _ pleased with herself, one hand curled around Jaster's pauldron as he strode down the hall in search of the elevator.

"Yes," Violet agreed, because it would seem from the look on Sunny's face and the dangerous degrees of self satisfaction emanating from Beatrice, that her home was looking to be shared right now. "It is important."

She hoped she wasn't going to regret this. Her heart couldn't take another break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elouanwrites uploaded a Jaster adopts Maul fic and my brain immediately went "holy fuck the Baudelaires need a dad asap". (Also, you should absolutely read [ set all your mind upon the steep ascent](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28516737/chapters/69877695#workskin). It's excellent. I'm just going to rabidly collect fics where Jaster adopts random kids and rec them in notes now. This is what my life is now. Welcome to missing Jaster hell.
> 
> Also, while I deeply appreciate everyone asking if I was going to make the Baudelaires Force sensitive, none of you were asking the right questions, and the right questions are this: what kind of special hell would a sonic shower be for an autistic person, and is Sunny autistic. Who cares about Force sensitivity. Autistic Sunny with oral stims and cooking as a special interest.
> 
> But no seriously the very concept of sonic showers makes me want to cry and I can't wait to do research for literally seven plus hours straight in a bout of hyper fixation to have Violet take one apart and figure out how to make it soothing rather than distressing for Sunny.
> 
> tumblr: [ psychicshr00m](https://psychicshr00m.tumblr.com/)


	4. Chapter 4

There’s a moment when you realize that something is irrevocably  _ real. _ It’s a strange moment. Klaus had had that moment many times in his life, and every time it had a dream-like quality, like he was floating and not really a part of a moment, just a fly on the wall.

It felt a bit like that right now. This couldn’t possibly be real. He’d seen the blur of light through the windows of the bridge, the twisting vortex of blue-white glow, but it didn’t have quite the same impact as the shudder and  _ jolt _ of them blasting out of ‘hyperspace’ and coming face to face with an entire planet with a good chunk of it missing, twisting and blue and drifting in the endless black of space.

It was breathtaking, and he felt like he wasn’t really  _ here, _ but this was real and it was happening and he couldn’t in a million years understand how they got here or why. Space exploration. They were still dreaming of walking on the  _ moon, _ and here they were coming into orbit of a planet. It was breathtaking, in a million and one ways he couldn’t quite quantify. It was beautiful, and it was terrifying, and this was really, honestly, truly happening.

“It looks rough, but it’s home,” Jaster said as Klaus mutely stared at the beautiful destruction. “War’s torn apart Mandalore for thousands of years, but we survive.”

“I didn’t think it could be so big,” he said in hushed awe, and Jaster hitched Beatrice up higher on his hip as they drew closer to the planet.

“We’d better go wait to disembark. Unless you  _ ade  _ want to watch the descent?” He prompted, and Klaus shook himself as his eyes drifted over to Violet, who was standing in stock-still shock at the realization that they were in  _ space. _

“Can we?” He asked before he could stop himself, and Beatrice let out a gurgle that vaguely translated to  _ I’m hungry. _

“If you want,” Jaster said mildly, and Klaus fixed his eyes on the glass that separated them from an endless void he never even considered he’d touch in his lifetime. “It’s probably a lot to take in. I remember my first time leaving the planet. Wasn’t much older than you. Journeyman Protector conference my  _ buir _ took me to on Mandalore.”

“It’s so…”

“Much?” Jaster prompted, and a smile hovered around his lips. “Yeah. It can be, can’t it? If you’ve got the stars in your blood, you never quite get over it.”

The stars in your blood. Klaus could feel the stars singing as they approached the planet, and he desperately wanted to reach out and touch.

_ “Mand’alor,” _ someone said from behind them, and the pilot in front of Klaus twitched in irritation. Not entirely following, Klaus followed their gaze to the man from the battlefield, Montross, he thought his name was. Without his helmet, he was revealed to be a middle aged, bulky man with a scar over his eye and receding hairline. Something about his presence made Klaus uncomfortable, but he wasn’t going to say as much. “The clans are wanting to call a meeting for the Korda-6 mess.”

“I’ll meet them on surface after I get the  _ ade _ settled,” Jaster replied, not budging from his spot with Beatrice in his arms. “Set a meeting for tomorrow while I get in contact with the client and figure out what the hell went wrong.”

“... Yes,  _ Mand’alor, _ ” Montross said stiffly and turned on his heel to stride off. The door opened again, and Jango slipped in, helmet on his hip as he came to the side of his father.

“Injuries are all mopped up, Veli is done patching everyone up,” he reported. “Nothing serious. A couple of blaster bolts, might have to bench Jakk for the next trip. Veli is saying he needs physical therapy. No one lost a limb this time, and all of Craven’s horns are intact for once.”

“Not sure I believe you on that one,” Jaster said dryly as Beatrice dropped her head against his pauldron with a  _ thunk _ that made Klaus internally wince and automatically want to check her for injury, but Jaster was already twisting his head to look her over. “You’re too little for brain damage, womp rat. Wait a few years before you start headbutting beskar.”

“She’s hungry,” Klaus and Violet said as one, and then paused awkwardly. After a year in isolation with just the two of them as the designated responsible ones, they had reached an unnerving wavelength, and now that they were around actual, real people, it was becoming clear just how joined at the hip the two had gotten.

“Well, we’ll be sure to get some food in you four,” Jaster said after a pause.

“Sunny needs a real shower,” Jango muttered, and Klaus and Violet turned their heads as one to look at him. Color rose in his cheeks, and he resolutely looked out the window, his jaw twitching.

“She’ll get her shower. And we’ll find some better clothes than a  _ kute, _ ” Jaster said, his lips hitching up in amusement, and then they broke the atmosphere.

Klaus had expected it to shake more from the friction. Everything he had read had pointed to as such, but it was so smooth you could barely notice it beyond a jolt. Slowly, a planet painted in gold came into view, and Sunny clung to his leg as she watched in awe at the sight of tall grass she could scarcely recall. Klaus watched in quiet awe as the ship broke across the fields, and a hand rested on the back of her head on instinct as he realized they were now on  _ another planet. _ They had gone to  _ another planet, _ and it was beyond anything he could have ever dreamed of.

A complex started to rise into view, sprawling and multicolored, with a blend of different architectural styles and stories and courtyards, and the pilots smoothly moved them into a landing on some sort of platform outside of it. Jaster shifted Beatrice so she would be more comfortable pressed against him and turned for the door.

“Jango, you called ahead to get the suite set up, yes?” He asked, and Jango nodded.

“Short notice, but yeah,” he said. “They only have two rooms ready for company.”

“And a crib?” Jaster asked, and Violet cleared her throat.

“She shares the bed with us,” Violet cut in, and Jaster blinked, before another smile took over his face.

“That’ll be fine. Come on,” he said and keyed the door open. “Thank you, Yute and Gorg.”

The two pilots waved over their shoulders, more intent on flicking switches and pressing buttons that looked important, and Jaster led them out into the hall and towards the elevator. Klaus had an uncomfortable flashback to his unfortunate history with elevators, but dismissed it as Sunny scuttled to wrap a hand around Violet’s. Jango glanced at the two of them, and something flickered in the older teen’s eyes before he focused his attention on their walk.

The air outside was… clear. Missing the tang of the sea, but clear. It was a little chilly, and there was a wind pushing the grass into a mesmerizing sway. The sun was shining, a bite of warmth against the air, and Klaus finally took the time to take in the sight of all of the non-Human races he hadn’t really processed before. A pair of seemingly green women with long tails atop their heads were loading up crates with weapons, a man with strange brown and dusky orange markings all across his skin with several broken horns was directing people in unloading strange hovering craft, another woman with something like a mask sealed over her face to let her own strange horn-like structures and own tails hang free was striding down the ramp, speaking animatedly in that mysterious language to a person with a helmet tucked under their arm to let long braids swing loose, horns protruding from craggly skin around his jaw. There was another behemoth of a furry person, speaking in a strange, guttural language language to another presumable Human, hidden under a helmet, their arms gesticulating wildly, and Klaus…

His parents had always taught him  _ never _ to stare. It was rude, and impolite, and his time as a concierge had hammered home that rule. Never stare, never let someone catch you looking at them, be unseen and unnoticed, but it was getting a  _ little _ difficult. There was a lot of stimuli, he hadn’t seen another being besides his sisters in a year, and now  _ this. _ Honestly, he was keeping it together very well, all things considered, but he also felt like he had to throw up.

Jaster seemed to understand the urgency. There were teasing whispers in another language, glances given to them that seemed to be full of mirth and amusement, and Klaus didn’t understand that at  _ all. _ Jaster ignored it all, leading the troupe of children into the main building. Everyone seemed to be giving him a wide berth, though nothing was being said, and Klaus hazarded a glance up towards their mysterious benefactor to try and suss out what was going through his head.

Nothing. It was a mask. Carefully schooled, and Jango wasn’t saying much of anything, either.

When they actually got inside, that changed drastically. Jango’s shoulders loosened, and Jaster let out a snort of amusement.

“That was the quietest coming home I’ve ever gotten,” he said dryly, and Jango rolled his eyes as he keyed open a door.

“They don’t want to scare them off. It wasn’t about  _ you, _ ” he drawled, and tilted his head towards Sunny, who was starting to look tired. “Vaccine kicking in, kid?”

“Bite me,” Sunny said, and Klaus coughed.

_ “Sunny Baudelaire,” _ he hissed, but Jaster just laughed.

“He’s got a set of teeth on him, kiddo. Careful what you say,” he said as Beatrice listed against his shoulder with an unhappy  _ harumph. _

“Abittee,” she said solemnly, roughly translating as  _ I bite too, _ and Klaus was  _ beyond _ glad neither Jango nor Jaster knew what she was saying, because apparently they had been slacking on their child rearing techniques. Had Sunny always been that rude?

Yes. Yes, she had been.

“So, this is House Mereel,” Jaster said. “Most of the clans have been coming together to swear to me, and you’re probably a bit too tired for a tour---”

“And quarantined,” Jango chimed in, unhelpfully.

“That, too. When you’re let out of jail,” and here Jaster grimaced, “we’ll show you around. It can be a bit confusing to navigate, but I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it while we figure out to help you four.”

Jango snorted again, like that was somehow funny, and Jaster shot him a measured glance.

“What is your spice tolerance?” He asked, and Violet and Klaus exchanged glances.

“I like spice!” Sunny announced, and Klaus frowned at her.

“You haven’t had  _ real _ spice in over a year, Sunny. Violet and I are fine with it. Our parents used to…”

Klaus trailed off pitifully, and memories seized him in a way they hadn’t in two years. Maybe it was Jaster’s kind eyes, how fast he’d been to react to them in harm’s way. Maybe it was the sudden confusion and exhaustion. Maybe it was the fact that they had  _ just _ found peace, and instead been caught up in a hurricane of something they hadn’t asked for, had finally not needed, too little and too late, and he didn’t know if he could trust this Jaster Mereel. But he wanted to cry. He wanted to hold Beatrice to his chest and protect her from how ugly he knew the world could be. He wanted Sunny to forget about it all, forget about the man that called her a monkey and stuffed her in a cage. He wanted Violet to not flinch away from men, not look at her left hand like she was expecting there to be a ring there, even now. He wanted a lot of things, but above all, he wanted to be safe again, in the only way he had learned safety: with his sisters, far away from the damage people could do to them, presumed dead and happily so.

They hadn’t asked for this. Klaus wasn’t a believer in the divine, but it felt like a god had plucked them up and said, “you’re not done” and thrown them full force into a world of guns and spaceships and some kind of warrior culture, when all they had ever craved was  _ peace _ and  _ kindness. _

Their parents used to take them to an Indian restaurant every second Thursday.

“Well,” Jaster said after a pause, where he correctly determined that Klaus wasn’t going to finish that statement, “we’ll send up spicy and hearty, then. Jango and Myles would be  _ happy _ to get you all fed.”

“The water shower is working in their rooms, right?” Jango asked, and Jaster raised a brow at him.

“I don’t know,  _ is _ it? I told you to get the rooms set up, didn’t I?”

“... I’ll double check,” Jango said, and they came to a T in the hall where he ducked off and away. Jaster let out a huff of laughter and turned around the corner.

“It definitely works, but you can’t be too easy on him,” he said dryly. “Hardheaded kid.”

“So… We’re on Concord Dawn?” Klaus hedged out, not sure if he should respond to the gentle ribbing.

“Yes. Part of the Mandalorian sector,” Jaster explained as he led them up a flight of stairs. “There’s some contention over who gets the  _ actual _ planet right now, so we’re here.”

“... So there’s a war?”

“We’re Mandalorians,” Jaster drawled. “There’s always a war, and someone’s always stupid enough to fight to end it.”

From the tone of his voice, it sounded like he was the stupid one in question.

“We’re the  _ Haat Mando’ade, _ or True Mandalorians,” Jaster continued. “Right now, just in Mandalorian space, there’s three factions. Death Watch, New Mandalorians, and us. I’m considered the  _ Mand’alor _ , but Death Watch doesn’t agree due to the shiny sword they claim they don’t have so I don’t try and take it, and the New Mandalorians are of the opinion that the  _ Mand’alor  _ shouldn’t exist at all, not that anyone has any patience to listen to them but themselves.”

This sounded like everything the Baudelaires should not be involving themselves in, but Klaus didn’t voice that. From the glance his eldest sister gave him, she agreed. Instead, they opted to shut up and listen, because you got a lot further in life by just listening. Jaster gave them both an appraising glance, but Sunny was perking up, and oh, no.

“A sword? You decide who’s in charge with a  _ sword? _ ” She asked, and Jaster actually laughed.

“Unfortunately. We’re a dramatic bunch,” he replied, taking it in good humor, and of course, he had good humor. “Nothing more dramatic than a glowing black  _ jetii’kad. _ Tarre Vizsla just had to go for the heightened dramatics.”

“What’s a  _ jetii’kad? _ ” Sunny asked, trying out the syllables with intense concentration, and Jaster grinned.

“A lightsaber. Basically, a magic sword powered with a crystal with a blade made out of plasma. The Jedi generally use them, but Tarre Vizsla was our first  _ Mand’alor _ and a Jedi. Only one of his kind.”

“They made a blade out of plasma?” Violet muttered. “How did they keep it in place? That’s not how plasma works.”

Jaster paused, surprised, and Klaus realized Violet was  _ also _ relaxing. Oh, this was very, very dangerous.

“Electromagnetic shielding and the Force,” he replied. “The Force is…”

“Veli explained it,” Klaus cut in, and he arched a brow.

“Unlike her. She must like you more than Jango,” he said dryly and paused outside of a door. With a press of a button, he opened the door, and they were suddenly greeted by a quaint sitting room with overstuffed couches and plants clustered around a balcony that was vaguely shimmering with some kind of field Klaus didn’t understand and was too scared to ask about. There were three doors on either side, and Jaster strode in.

“Right. History lessons later, right now we need you to get fed and Sunny needs a shower,” he declared as they piled into the sitting room. “If Jango has any sense, he got Myles and they’re going to be bringing up a meal for you four, but forward thinking isn’t always his strong suit, so I have to go check on him. Those vaccines are probably about to start wreaking havoc on you, so get Sunny cleaned up now, and I’ll be up with food and better clothes. Most of our Foundlings we pick up just get tired in the aftermath, will probably knock you out for a good twelve hours. Especially Beatrice’s size. We’ll be back in a good thirty minutes, so can you four manage on your own?”

Jaster tilted his head at them, and Klaus took in his big, prominent nose and endlessly kind brown eyes, trying to match that up to the man that was shouting and kicking up a fuss in the middle of a warzone, shooting real people and covering them with his own body. Violence had never been something they needed, never been anything but a thing they associated with a long-dead count who made their lives a living hell. They’d always fought, but they fought to get  _ away, _ for all the good it did them.

Really, it was only ever going to go one way, and Klaus had known for a long time that something that started in death was only ever going to end in death. A selfish part of him had wondered how much better their life would have been if they took his exhaustive knowledge of poisons and sprinkled it into a putanesca that had never been good enough. How much  _ less _ suffering they would have had to endure, because all they had was the ability to endure, in the end. All the clever tricks, all of the pleas for help, all of the ingenuity and running, all of it had culminated in one man, dying mad with greed and grief and hate he had never truly started with. A secret society that had never put out the fire that was  _ their _ life dead and defunct, unable to protect them and cherish them in the face of the monsters of their own making.

They couldn’t stay here. It started with a sugar bowl. It always started with a sugar bowl, a sword, a tower and a fire, and it ended the same way. A senseless, useless death, with only one tiny, fragile life in the aftermath, and a desperate promise that they would do better than those that became before them.

They couldn’t stay. Because they had promised they would do better. And yet, here was Jaster, holding Beatrice like she was something precious, like she had always belonged there, and…

“We can handle ourselves for thirty minutes,” Klaus croaked out, and Jaster shifted, with all of the experience of a man who was around babies regularly, to hold Beatrice out to him. He took the baby, hefted her up against him, and tried his best to look like he wasn’t falling apart at the seams.

“Alright. I’m going to go supervise Jango,” he said, like the older teen somehow needed supervision, and with that, he turned to leave. “Remember. Quarantine in case you react badly.”

“We know!” Violet called, and Jaster slid open the door and slipped out.

Klaus felt numb. Emotions had been beaten out of him, and he had just barely gotten a handle on them, but now they were back, and in full force with their aggression. He didn’t know what to feel or what to do. They were in space. There were actual spaceships. They were on a boat, hoping to start over with a new life, and then they were  _ in space _ in the middle of some kind of war no one had even explained to them, and this was just.

The new normal.

He missed his old normal.

“Is this…”

“Let’s get you showered, Sunny,” Violet cut in with a glance given to Klaus, and he deflated.

It felt like a dream. This couldn’t possibly be real. They didn’t even have anything to  _ offer _ anymore. No fortune a king would care about, no brains that mattered in the face of this insane science fiction novel he had ended up embroiled in, no grasp of the actual alphabet, no skills, no nothing. Just four orphans that had clawed a home out for themselves and now had to figure out something new. Four orphans that had forgotten what fear was like, but now it was in their faces, overwhelming their lives, and he wanted to cry.

Numbly, he set to roaming the suite they had been put in. Two bedrooms next to each other, with massive, comfortable beds piled in furs, with loveseats and plants in the windows, a modest bathroom, and Beatrice progressively getting more fussy in his arms. Violet figured out the controls very quickly, got a water shower running for Sunny, and then it was just her and him and Beatrice, who was close to having a meltdown. Klaus needed to  _ cry, _ but Beatrice was hungry and tired and her arm hurt.

He was so tired of being responsible. So tired.

But Violet didn’t seem to care about responsibility. The second the door clicked shut to the bathroom, she was grabbing him and pulling him over to the couch set by the balcony, yanking and tugging him down with some kind of desperation so he could just collapse, like all of his strings had been cut, Beatrice shuffled between his arm and the back, his head in Violet’s lap.

“It was supposed to be okay,” he croaked out, and the first tears started to slip down his cheeks. “It was going to be…”

“I know,” Violet breathed, like she didn’t need this, too. “I know.”

The enormity of the situation crashed down on Klaus, and he felt so small, so lost and alone, and all Violet could do was pillow his head in his lap and let him cry his heart out. They were quiet cries, little hiccups and rattles in his chest, silent and lonely, and before long, hot, wet tears were falling onto his face, dripping down from his sister’s face as she drifted too far to bother to wipe them away.

A tiny hand reached up to pat his cheek, and Beatrice struggled to sit up so she could press her fists into his cheeks.

“Donc,” she murmured as she patted at his wet cheeks. “Donc.”

_ Don’t cry. Don’t cry, Klaus. _

He didn’t know how to tell her he couldn’t stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen they needed a good cry before we can get this nonexistent plot in motion.
> 
> Anyways I'm gonna give Sunny a Nexu and his name will be Butters and Montross will learn to fear him.
> 
> tumblr: [ psychicshr00m](https://psychicshr00m.tumblr.com/)


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